


Sweetness

by Impressioniste



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-24
Updated: 2014-05-24
Packaged: 2018-01-26 08:02:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1680845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Impressioniste/pseuds/Impressioniste
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anders and Hawke and a happy, intimate moment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweetness

**Author's Note:**

> This is a repost of a previously-written work, with some minor editing. The title has also been changed.

Anders is not a morning person, Garrett is quick to discover.

Neither is Garrett, truth be told, but he understands the necessity of it, and grudgingly manages to do what needs to be done—most of the time.

Necessity doesn't make it any less difficult to pull himself out of his warm, comfortable bed while Anders is still sleeping heavily beside him, though. Anders' features are somber and smooth, his slumber deep and dreamless for once, thanks to the strength of the particularly strong sleeping draught he'd drunk the night before, made by steeping a handful of strong, fragrant herbs directly into a cup of hot, honeyed tea.

Garrett knows how much Anders hates drugging himself to sleep, that he does it only as a desperate last resort after several days of painfully prolonged sleeplessness, when he's past the point of plain weariness and well into a bone-deep state of crippling exhaustion. Anders hates the way it makes him feel out of sorts and not in control of his own body, uncomfortable with the unnatural drowsiness that fills him after he drinks it and the grogginess that inevitably follows the next morning.

But sometimes, on a night when Garrett knows they don't have any important upcoming plans and Anders looks like he's half in the bag even though he hasn't had a drop to drink since he can't even remember when, Garrett manages to persuade him to take a day off to rest, and the rest always does him good, in the end.

Last night was one of those nights.

Anders' eyelids flutter weakly as Garrett slides away from him, carefully extricating himself from the mass of tangled limbs that the two of them have somehow managed to work themselves into overnight. Anders is a tosser and a turner, one who frequently clutches and clings to whatever is within reach as he sleeps, and Garrett often wakes with his arms and legs knotted up in ways he's certain are quite different from the positions they were in when he first fell asleep. But waking with Anders' body wrapped around him is something he'd never dream of complaining about, even if it does make it harder to get up and out of bed.

Garrett sits with his legs hanging over the side of the bed, momentarily weighing the pros and cons of simply crawling back under the warm blankets and pressing himself against Anders' even warmer body for as long as possible, but he's already awake and already up, and he knows that it really is best that he start plugging away at the pile of papers and letters on his desk that have been building up over the last two weeks.

A subtle shift underneath the sheets brings Garrett out of his thoughts and back into reality, and when he glances to the side he can see Anders looking back up at him, his eyes glazed with drowsiness and heavy-lidded, his lips slowly twisting into a lazy, languid smile. Anders' fingers slide up Garrett's thigh and Garrett leans forward to kiss him, rubbing the rough ridge of Anders' jawline with his thumb, and breathing in deeply when Anders utters a muffled little sigh against his mouth.

Garrett is the first to pull away, even if he does so reluctantly, and Anders whimpers softly in disappointment as their lips finally part, his lazy smile melting into a tiny, pouting frown.

"Don't go," he murmurs, his voice cracking under the weight of his drowsiness, though he somehow manages to summon up enough energy to slip his arms around Garrett's waist, locking his fingers together at the small of his back.

"You should rest," Garrett says, leaning back down to press soft, small kisses to Anders' cheeks and eyelids, brushing his sleep-tousled mop of dark blond hair back from his face.

"I've rested _plenty_ ," Anders frowns again in protest, a bit more awake, now. "Slept a whole night, even." He lets his arms slip away from Garrett's waist, fingertips trailing reluctantly down his sides, eventually coming to rest back down on the bed.

"Only one man I know can sleep one night a week and call it 'plenty'," Garrett rolls his eyes, but a smile creeps up onto his lips anyway.

"And only one man I know expects me to sleep while there's a naked, grinning Champion in my bed." Anders raises his hand and traces a fingertip down the length of Garrett's chest, stopping just above his navel, ending the gesture with a playfully lazy poke.

" **Your** bed?" Garrett teases, raising an eyebrow, the muscles in his stomach tightening defensively at Anders' touch.

" _Your_ bed?" Anders smiles demurely, inquisitively, splaying his fingers out against Garrett's belly, intently watching the muscles relax and contract again beneath his palm. "Unless you're still planning on getting out of it."

" **Our** bed," Garrett growls roughly, though the smile behind it completely betrays him. "And you know I never back down from a challenge."

"Be gentle with me?" Anders murmurs without the tiniest bit of sincerity behind the plea, batting his eyelashes in an attempt at feigned modesty.

"Not a chance." Garrett kisses him hard, mouths crushing together, tongues hot and slick and slippery, sliding eagerly between each other's mouths, teeth scraping roughly against soft, wet flesh.

"Good," Anders gasps when he has a moment to breathe again, Garrett's beard rough against his skin as he moves on to Anders' neck, sucking hard enough at his throat to leave a trail of blooming purple bruises in his wake. Anders closes his eyes as Garrett's hands begin to roam purposefully down his body and across the lean, pale expanse of his chest, stopping to rest just below Anders' navel while his mouth trails close behind, tracing along the very same path, one slow, lingering kiss at a time.

"Don't stop," Anders pleads, a moan slipping out from between his lips before he can hold it back, before he can even consider the possibility of holding back at all.

Garrett smiles then, his lips flush against Anders' trembling belly, placing one last teasing, infuriatingly tender kiss before bringing himself back up to eye level, their bodies sliding together with a fond, familiar intimacy, one pressing down as the other arches up, Anders' eyes sliding wide open again as their foreheads touch. Anders sees Garrett's eyes focused on his and burning like coals, his mouth barely a breath away, his lips moving to form a single word that spills out somewhere scarcely above a whisper, tickling gentle and sweet against the curve of Anders' ear.

"Never."

It lingers only briefly before melting away, a shiver lost to the warmth that envelops them, but even after he's kissed every last trace of sweetness from Garrett's lips, Anders doesn't doubt him for a moment.


End file.
